


school yard games

by writeforyou



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Relationship, Canon Trans Character, Everything is the same but modern, F/M, M/M, Multi, Organized Crime, Paintball, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 08:15:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2766035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeforyou/pseuds/writeforyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thedas University AU.</p>
<p>The world has changed so much, and yet, not at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	school yard games

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I got carried away writing this one thing (inquisition going paintballing) and then I ended up falling in love and wanting to write some big thing that just has everything about this world, about all the characters from origins, da2 and inquisition. I have so many ideas, you have no clue.
> 
> beta'd be shepherd after I bugged her way too much times about it, sorry!!

 

“And we stand strong, because we are Chargers! And Chargers never admit defeat!”

Beside Sol, Leliana rolled her eyes in exasperation. Apparently, this was a thing. Iron Bull - not his real name, but still it suited him better than any other - did the speeches. Varric claimed he had a gift for all words that translated into punching someone in the ground. Sol wasn’t really surprised by that. The qunari was huge, towering far above her with muscles that were bigger than her head. In another world, she probably would have felt uneasy about watching him gear up as if they were going to battle, but in this one, it was hard to be scared of him after their first meeting when he grinned down at her like a loon and complimented her on her right hook. Plus, there was the added bonus that she was on his team.

It was Bull that invited her here. She was new on campus, showed up halfway through the year on a sports scholarship and studying law, and she had spent most of her time either in her off campus home, lecture theatres or the gym. Sol was pretty sure that Bull and his friends lived in the gym. They’d never spoken until three weeks earlier, when he had approached her, taking the position of her trainer and letting her punch until it burned. He would offer advice now and then, to tilt her wrist before she hit the bag or pointing out how her leg slipped when she lurched forward. It had been a while since she’d had a half decent spotter so she appreciated it. Whenever their gym times overlapped, which was most of the time, Bull would invite her to join him. They never really spoke about anything serious, never even spoke about what they did outside those moments, so what had possessed him to decide that she would be a worthy member of his paintball team, Sol had no idea.

“I’ve never played,” Sol told him when he asked.

He clapped her hard on her back and her knees buckled under the power. “All the more reason.”

She didn’t really argue with him after that, and just showed up.

It was either this, or actually finish her paper and if it were a race, shooting people with balls of paint would win every time.

Krem nudged her shoulder, drawing her from her thoughts and grinned. “Don’t worry,” he said and didn’t bother to lower his voice, “Arsehole rehearsed this last night.”

It was said with a mixture of fondness and irritation, and Sol patted his arm sympathetically.

Despite the general mood of just wanting to move on, and the fact that Sera was twitching eagerly in her seat, they let Iron Bull finish his speech. It ended with cheers, a sound that was both half hearted and warm, and Sol joined in because she thought she should.

It was Krem that shoved a semi automatic into her hand. It was huge, heavy, weighed and she tried to balance it precariously. She vaguely recalled how the lady who had given the safety briefing before had instructed them to hold their weapons and corrected her grip. She lifted it, positioned, and yes, she was sure she could work with this.

Cullen eyed her worriedly, and uncertainty suggested maybe a smaller one. Sol gave him an unimpressed look. She may be small, just as all dwarves were, but she wasn’t incapable compared to her taller comrades.

“I watched her tear a bag from its hinges before,” Iron Bull commented.

Cullen looked wide eyed and started at her. Dorian laughed, and Cassandra nodded approvingly. Sol gave a half shrug, and slung the gun over one shoulder.

Like she said, she’d never done this before, but it all seemed overdramatic. Each team was set up on either side of the enclosed wilderness and they had weapons, armour, all ready for them to dress themselves in - although the armour didn’t really fit Iron Bull, Vivienne complained about the boots being a size smaller than they were supposed to be and the jacket that Sol wore sat too low on her waist - and then, when both teams that called to say that they were ready, the doors were opened and they were lead down a dimly lit passageway, down what looked like an underground route. Sol had seen a few to recognise them, before they reached the arena itself.

Cullen, Leliana and Josephine were squabbling over tactics, and judging by the look on Dorian’s face, this was something that happened a lot too. To him, she whispered, “Do they ever agree on anything?”

“It was a miracle that they even decided on this place,” Dorian responded with a snort. It was strange how the noise sounded dignified on him. He glanced around at the trees - fake, realistic enough but the smell that surrounded them was artificial - and sniffed indignantly. “The last place was better.”

“Why aren’t we at the last place then?”

Dorian grinned as if lost in a memory, and said, “Some people take this game far too seriously.”

Sol wondered whether she’d be privy to that story, if she asked. (She did, eventually, and Gabrielle took great pleasure in retelling exactly how Dorian pinned some kid to the ground and shot him in the visor. Dorian didn’t even deny it, just pointedly said, “go big or go home.”)

The team was being split into two - four at range, and seven close up. Dorian and Vivienne immediately went to the left of the group, bickering amongst themselves as they walked further into the woods, which made Sol think that they had worked together closely before. She and Varric would make up the second team, and they walked in the opposite direction. They set a position behind trees about two clicks from the main mass. Backup, Sol realised. The horde would draw the attention so that the four of them could take out approaching enemies without being caught. Not bad.

“It’s easier just to do what Curly says,” Varric told her as they moved into position, “He did a tactics course and kicks everyone’s arse at battleship and he thinks he’s some wartime commander.”

Sol squinted down at him, a sharp figure in the distance and gave a small shrug. “I can see it.”

Varric laughed. “Tell him that and you’ll see how much of a puppy that boy really is. Besides, the idiot kind of knows what he’s doing. Don’t tell him I told you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she assured, but filed that information away instinctively.

There was something therapeutic about it all. Lining up her weapon with an approaching target and firing, blue splattering over their gear. The first time, they shrieked in surprise, shot instinctively at the floor, and spun around to try and find who shot her. Sol smothered her laughter with her hand to not be caught. The second managed to catch her before she could hide. She waved with the tips of her fingers at him, and took pleasure in the way that he stomped back to base. She wondered if he was muttering curses about her. She hoped so.

“You’re good at this,” Varric mused.

Sol pressed her lips together and ducked her head to watch her fingers tap on the handle. “I’ve...had some practise,” she said vaguely.

“Haven’t we all,” he responded. So he hadn’t noticed her hesitation. Good. Another target came into their line of vision, and Varric gestured that he would take this one. There was something about his grin, told her that this was going to be interesting at the very least, and she lowered her gun easily. Inclined her head. All yours.

Varric shot up, three, four, five, six, finger pressed firmly to the trigger. She opened her mouth to ask why, and the dwarf smirked at her and pointed one finger out into the mass approaching their established camp. The paintballs curved in the sky and fell. Four hit one target.

“How long have you been practising that one?” Sol tittered, just as amused as she was impressed. How had he learnt he could do that? Probably not the same way she learnt most of her skills, that she was sure of.

“Oh, Bianca and I never reveal our secrets like that,” Varric patted the gun affectionately and smiled slyly.

“You named your gun Bianca?” Sol arched an eyebrow.

“She’s very special.”

He said ‘special’ like he was talking about a person. Sol didn’t call him on it.

Leaning around the left side of her tree, she could see everyone. Dorian and Vivienne were mere specks between shaking branches, but there was no mistaking the collar of Vivienne’s shirt, that was very carefully curled over the top of the protective vest she had frowned at before putting on. It was silver and reflective, marked their position. If it were any other situation, Vivienne would be dead by now. Sol supposed it was a good thing the woman was as efficient and terrifying as she actually was.

It was surprising that Iron Bull hadn’t been hit yet. He was after all bulky and tall and not exactly difficult to miss, especially with the magnificent display of horns upon his head. But then he had done this before, and his muscle memory was well trained. It seemed effortlessly the way that he would spin away from a ball, laugh maniacally when he heard it splatter behind him or at his feet and shoot wildly into the trees.

Bull shouted something encouraging at Krem, who shot back sarcastic. He and Cassandra had been the only one to pick a shield, and he rose it, tilted at an angle to keep the paint for hitting his visor. Sol wondered who had trained him, because that was old templar training that Sol knew wasn’t in practise anymore, not since the mage-templar wars had stopped over a hundred years ago. Around the right side of his shield, the pistol was aimed, a contrast to the lack of precision that Bull displayed. They were yin and yang, and worked way too well together. A force to be reckoned with.

Her eyes caught the figure dodging attacks before them, aimed and fired.

She got him in the knee.

“Oi, I wanted to get him,” Sera gripped up at her, and shot him in the back as he stomped back to the enemy base.

“Snooze, you lose,” Sol quipped back. Sera flipped the bird. She returned the favour.

Another figure came into sight, too close to the group, and Sol rose her weapon, ready.

The hapless boy stumbled into Cassandra’s path. She quirked an eyebrow and pressed her lips firmly together, and he seemed frozen in place. Sol could understand, the warrior was a terrifying sight before she was geared up, let alone after. One flick of her shield had him flying into a tree and she used her gun arm to shoot him squarely in the chest. Sol turned the barrel of her gun elsewhere.

In the center of it all, Cullen, Leliana and Josephine drew most of the fire. While disorganised outside, they moved in sync in battle. It was strange, seeing the seriousness on Cullen’s face or seeing Josephine react with such violent pleasure at landing a shot. Leliana though, all ruthless expressions and careful shots, Sol wasn’t surprised.

She wondered why the opposing team were running towards them seemingly without a plan. But then again, she would have done the same and sought out the enemy if she were in their shoes, without the guidance of the people around her. She almost felt bad for them. If this were a real battlefield, they’d be dead because they lacked cooperation or any kind of skill. Shame, really.

She saw the girl approach from behind, watched for a second longer than she should have because she thought - someone else, closer, had seen her, they had to, she should just move on, look for another - but then she was inside the comfort zone, undetected, except by Sol, who took the shot finally but it was too late.

She had already fired.

Cullen took the hit to his chest, yellow exploding everywhere, and fell hard to his knees. Josephine caught him, and cradled his head. For a moment, her heart caught in her chest and she panicked, panicked because she only knew this people for a day and already bodies were falling and - Sol remembered where she was, and forced her shoulders to relax. Just a game. Right. She couldn’t remember a time where it had ever been just a game.

Cullen gurgled and shook and jerked and clung to the edges of Josephine's shirt. Sol could see she was struggling not to laugh, but she had to credit the soft spoken woman for playing along as she did, with fake tears and pleads to live and everything.

“Josie, you have to promise...promise...don’t let anyone near my computer before the internet history has been deleted,” Cullen gasped.

“I promise, I will,” she nodded and managed to let Cullen take his ‘last breath’ and go limp before she started giggling.

Leliana simply stepped over Cullen’s body and peered outwards. “They’ve withdrawn but they’ll be back. Sol, feel like venturing into enemy territory?”

Sol shrugged. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take. To avenge Cullen’s death.”

Leliana quirked a smile at her, and Sol took that as approval. “I suppose the moron would want it so.”

Cullen cracked one eye open. “Lel, that’s a tactical-” he started to complain and was shushed quickly by a swift kick to the sole of his shoe.

“The dead don’t talk Cullen,” Dorian scolded, “If you’re going to die, do it properly.”

He grumbled, lips twitching a little at the edges, and settled back, eyes squeezed shut.

Sol didn’t bother hiding her smile, and her laugh followed her through the woods when Iron Bull saluted her and Krem told her that she better come back in one piece.

 

*

 

Sol rolled away from an attack and landed with a thud behind the cover. The man beside her jerked, eyes wide and startled. Sol didn’t recognise him, and she doubted that she would have forgotten that impressive display of facial hair. Damn, she did have a thing for beards. She eyed his get up for the purple that she had wrapped around her upper arm and found none. The opposing team, then. She thought about shooting him and moving on, but the poor man looked like he had dug in deep and hadn’t moved and was more than a little surprised by her presence beside him. She took pity. Exhilarated and a little flushed in her cheeks, she smiled breathlessly.

“Hey,”

“Hi,” he replied uncertainly after a moment.

“I’m Sol,” she introduced herself and held out her hand to him.

He hesitated and then took it, squeezing for a moment and then letting go. “Um, Blackwall.”

“That’s not a real name,” she commented.

“Neither is Iron Bull,” he retorted.

Sol hummed. “Good point. You know Iron Bull?”

“I’ve seen him around, hard to miss him to be honest,” Blackwall replied, “Plus, we’ve been on opposing sides before.” He gestured to their weapons and she ooh’ed.

“Does that mean you’re going to shoot me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Not particularly, but isn’t that the point of the game?”

Blackwall shrugged. “I suppose. Maybe this is all part of my ruse, distract a good shot so that my teammates can take down your team without your interference.”

“You saw me then, and you didn’t try to take me out?” she felt her smile widening, even more so when Blackwall looked uncomfortable, as if he had revealed more than he should have.

“You’ve a lot of good shots on your team,” he responded quickly.

“Aww, and here’s me thinking that I’m special,” she teased.

He stared at her for a moment, perhaps for too long, maybe not long enough- Sol wasn’t entirely sure- before he coughed and looked at his feet, eyebrows furrowed downwards. She felt warm.

“Shouldn’t you, ah, get back?” Blackwall gestured.

Sol shrugged and crossed her legs, a silent point that she was staying. “Maybe I want them to think you’re holding me hostage. I can’t say they’d let that slide. Not in this game.”

Blackwall guffed. “Evil genius,” he grumbled but with a smile.

Sol supposed that was true, in many senses of the word, and she nudged her shoulder with his gently. He nudged back. It was good.

The voices were close enough that she could hear them now - Iron Bull’s cheers, Cassandra’s laughs, Sera’s taunts beside yelps from voices she did not recognise, and the distinct whooshing of paintballs exiting their guns - and Sol rose up to peek over the top of their shared shelter to see the line pushing forward. She sunk down into place and gave Blackwall a small shrug.

“I guess that’s my cue,” she informed him.

“Yes, I suppose so.” He paused, “Does that mean you’re going to shoot me?”

“Do you want me to?” she challenged.

Blackwall replied, “There would be worst ways to die than at the hands of a beautiful woman,” and frowned like he said the wrong thing.

Sol pretended she didn’t notice. “Well, if you’re going to keep complimenting me, I might have to keep you around,” she winked.

He spluttered, went a little pink along the line of his beard and smiled just barely at her.

She joined the others quickly with a grin and joked about how it took a stronger bastard to take her down. Sera hip checked her as she past, and laughed boisterously when she nailed someone in the dick.

Being up close, that was far more fun, and Sol knew she was good. Yellow paint flew in her direction and Sol danced away from the hit. She circled behind Josephine just before she was hit. Unlike her friend, she didn’t fall into a routine, she just cursed colourfully, lowered her gun and gave her a shrug as if to say ‘what can you do?’

“I’ll get them for you,” Sol promised.

Josephine beamed in response.

She got one with another shot, ducked just in time to avoid a ball aimed at her chest. It marked the ground vividly. Sol wondered how long they had been playing, how many of the other team there actually were left. Logistics that before, she would have considered important to know, but now, she was actually happy to let herself be clueless, to not rush to the end and just enjoy what she was doing. Huh. That probably said too much about her than anything else.

Sol took shelter behind the trunk of a tree, and peered around. The barrel of her gun was aimed on the horizon, searching through the trees. There was a flash of movement, and she shot. Missed. Reloaded and aimed again. The figure stepped out from the rustling leaves and she hesitated for a moment.

Blackwall.

Seemed wrong to shoot a man she knew the name of.

He stood awkwardly, shuffling out in the open and then stopped, as if waiting. For what? Sol wanted to ask what he was thinking, but her shouting would almost certainly draw attention to herself and well, there could only be one idiot per game who thought that was a good idea. She stepped a little towards him, and his eyes stopped searching to land on her. Oh. So he had been looking for her. Now that was an interesting piece of information, wasn’t it?

She arched an eyebrow at him in silent question.

He shrugged and yet still, didn’t move.

What’s your game?

Blackwall rose his hands a little, shotgun just held in his hand nothing more. He could shoot her, she wasn’t exactly hiding from him. Just like she could shoot - Sol stopped. She tilted her head curiously and tipped her gun a little towards him.

He inclined his head to the left.

Well then.

Sol fired and he rose his gun slowly, a second too late, and it hit. Blue paint splattered against the top of his vest, and she wanted to laugh when he made a show of sighing, running his hand through his ‘wound’ before shrugging just as helplessly, mockingly as Josephine had.

Sol returned the gesture, with a smile that started to make her cheeks hurt.

 

*

 

“Sol, right?”

Her name made the group stop, turn and she faced him pleasantly surprised. He looked different, out of his gear and into a jumper and jeans, but he still looked at her with that uncertainty, shoulders hunched forward a little. That warm feeling as back. She should probably look into that, when she wasn’t distracted by the blue paint still caught in his beard.

“Blackwall,” she greeted happily.

“You won,” he mused.

“We did. You don’t sound surprised.”

He looked as if he were about to speak, before his eyes hovered beyond her shoulder for a moment and he appeared to regret whatever the thought was.

“I’ve been up against the Chargers enough times to know that it’s pretty much inevitable,” he responded carefully with a goodnatured shrug, and behind her, she heard Cullen’s exasperated muttering, “don’t call us that, as if he doesn’t have a big head already”.

“You been consorting with the enemy, S?” Iron Bull questioned, eyes narrowed a little on Blackwall.

He looked embarrassed, reached up to scratch the back of his neck, and looked away from her. Sol frowned.

“Now dear, there are no enemies here,” Dorian swept in and announced, pressing his hand affectionately to Bull’s chest. He eyed Blackwall with interest, “Only...new friends. New friends that you’re getting in the way of our Sol making, and wouldn’t that be a waste.”

“It would be,” Sol agreed. Dorian’s eyes flashed wickedly, and Cassandra made a disgusted noise. She quirked an eyebrow and looked back at Blackwall, dragged her gaze. She still had the option to walk away, but that would mean never taking a chance. She did that a lot, but never when it came to stuff like this - potential romance and dating and all that other stuff that she had never had time for, but now she did and she wasn’t sure she wanted that chance to walk away without her.

“I’ll meet up with you guys later,” she assured and swept forward, slide her arm through Blackwall’s and grinned up at him. “Let me buy you lunch.”

“I...yes,” Blackwall stammered, and let her drag him away from the group with an awed expression, like he couldn’t believe what was happening.

“Well, doesn’t he seem charming?” Dorian asked brightly.

Vivienne wrinkled her nose. “I suppose. If you find ‘I got dressed in the dark this morning’ charming.”

“Now, now,” Josephine chided, “You two shouldn’t be so catty. He looks...”

“Like a bear,” Sera piped in, “I’m definitely getting ‘grrr’ vibes from him.”

Varric disputed. “A bear he may look like, but he looked like he was ready to roll over for her.”

“A good trait in a man,” Vivienne sniffed delicately, and somewhat approving.

“She’s going to eat him alive,” Krem mused pleased.

“Well, obviously.”

There was a chorus of agreement.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it and there will definitely be more! I'm probably going to write either Dorian/Trevelyan/Iron Bull (I have, hopefully, an interesting idea and would like to explore it) or Krem/Harding. If you have a preference, just say!
> 
> Thankies for reading :)
> 
> I have tumblr: [caadash](http://gladers.co.vu)


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